


Some of my best friends have wanted me dead.

by friendlybomber



Series: Ethelan Mahariel Sabrae [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Ethelan Mahariel Sabrae, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, nate/ethie bffs for life sorry i dont make the rules, this is literally just a big fluffy friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 11:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlybomber/pseuds/friendlybomber
Summary: Nathaniel Howe and Warden Mahariel are Best Friends(tm).





	Some of my best friends have wanted me dead.

**Author's Note:**

> working my way through posting some of my (frankly excessive amount of) dragon age fanfics. i would die live and kill for nathaniel howe.

1.

“Hey, Nate, check this out,” Ethelan called, picking at a darkspawn corpse.

Nathaniel blinked at his commander.

“Did you just call me Nate?” he hissed.

“Yeah? What’s the problem? C’mere like.”

He scowled and trotted over to her. He had not been under her command for long, but he was still unsure how to feel about her. On one hand, she had killed his father and disgraced his family. On the other, his father had turned out to be a piece of shit, and she seemed firm in her conviction that the Howes didn’t deserve the bad rap they got. She always smiled at him, and she went out of her way to give him little gifts and ask him about himself. And even if he snapped at her to mind her own business, he couldn’t help but fight the urge to answer.

She was a fine woman, he supposed. A little bubbly. A little innocent. Certainly not what he had expected the famous Hero of Ferelden to be like.

But she had just called him Nate, and that made him feel some sort of way.

“My name is Nathaniel,” he said.

“Yes, and mine is Ethelan. Look at the paint on this hurlock’s face.”

He looked where she indicated. The darkspawn wore black war paint in a puddle around its eyes that dripped down in long, gruesome scratches. Darkspawn were horrifying on their own, with their stretched grey skin and their sunken, rotten fangs. Something about the war paint on this hurlock, however, set Nathaniel’s teeth on edge. Something was not right here. They stared down at the corpse with uneasy half-frowns. He scratched his chin.

“That’s… odd, I take it,” he said. “Could it be related to this Mother we’ve heard about?”

“Possibly,” Ethelan murmured. There it was – that haunted look in her eyes. A memento from the Blight, Nathaniel guessed. She shuddered. “Bleugh. I have a bad feeling about all this. Come on, let’s get moving. Anders! Sigrun!”

The other Grey Wardens fell back into the party. The four of them drew close together, eyeing the area for more trouble, though they sensed no darkspawn. They pressed forward, leaving the reeking darkspawn corpses behind. As they plodded down the road, Nathaniel thought about the Warden-Commander and frowned.

Part of him still wanted to hate her, but he knew he couldn’t. To his vague horror, the feeling that was setting in instead was… friendship. Wonder of wonders. He considered that short, silly, strange elf a friend. He chuckled.

Sigrun jostled him with her elbow. “Hey, grumpy. What are you laughing at?”

“What?”

“Oh, come on. You’re doing this thing with your face that almost looks like a smile. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Nathaniel blinked.

“It’s… nothing. It’s just that… I’ve just realized this life sort of suits me.”

“What makes you say that?”

Nathaniel frowned, as was his habit. “Nothing.”

“So what, that’s a… bad thing?” Sigrun prodded.

He glanced at Ethelan walking a few paces ahead of them. The Hero of Ferelden… who called him Nate now, apparently. He might’ve smiled. Or it may have been a trick of the light. “No,” he said. “Not at all.”

 

2. 

Nathaniel would easily say that Warden-Commander Mahariel was his best friend. Vigil’s Keep may have been destroyed, but she was doing her best to keep the growing Grey Wardens in high spirits. In recent weeks, he added a new item to his list of things he admired about Ethelan; even though he knew she wanted to curl into a ball for three months and vomit the taint from her body, she put on a happy face to keep the others moving. Even without the Vigil, she was doing a damn good job as Warden-Commander.

But for as much as he respected and trusted her, he still had to draw the line somewhere.

“Naters, will you cuddle with me?”

_“What?”_

Ethelan batted her lashes. “You just look so big and cuddly. Also, I miss Fenlathal.”

“I’ll pass,” he said.

She pouted and crossed her arms. She was about a foot shorter than him, a tiny slip of a Dalish, with big blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Sometimes, it was hard to remember that she was the woman who stopped the Blight. “Okay. Keep your personal space,” she said. “But I love you and value you and I’m proud of you and I want you to succeed.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you go bother Anders?”

Ethelan pulled a face. “Last time we cuddled things got a little… out of hand.”

He recoiled. “So why on earth would _I_ cuddle with you?”

“Worth asking, I guess.” She shrugged. “Whatever, I’ll ask Sigrun. Oh, also, wanna look for darkspawn to the north with me tomorrow? I could use an extra bow like. That’s not really a request. More of a friendly order.”

There she was again. Warden-Commander Mahariel. Perhaps not the most militant or disciplined leader, but charismatic in her own way. What had she said to him when they first met? “Some of my best friends have wanted me dead?” He did not doubt that. She had a magnetic friendliness about her. It was almost like plot armor. No one could loathe her if she wanted them to be her friend.

He was never sure how to call a commanding officer who was also a friend. He tended to go with the name that he felt most respected her.

“Yes, Commander,” he said.

“Thanks, Nate.”

But sometimes he was a little shit, and that’s why they got along.

“You’re welcome… Ethie,” he smirked.

She immediately balked. “Ew. No. That’s disgusting. Don’t call me that.”

He laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. Back to what worked best. He’d sort that one out later, he supposed.

“Yes, Commander.”

 

3.

“Daisy,” Nathaniel said, wringing his hands in front of Ethelan’s face. She yawned and tilted her head back to look up at him.

“Mm?”

“You’re- ah,” he said. He blushed and looked away. Ethelan grinned wickedly.

“What?” she gasped. “Nathaniel Howe, did you just give me a nickname?”

“Forget it,” he mumbled. She wrestled herself out of his arms and faced him, hands planted firmly on her knees.

“Aww, Naters! That’s so cute!” She pecked him on the cheek, and he scowled and rubbed it away. “I love it.”

“Forget I said anything,” he huffed, though he couldn’t hide the fact that he was pleased. He hadn’t meant to say it. He was just looking at her, cuddled up against him, and his mind had wandered to those crowns she liked to braid of flowers and her big blue eyes and her childlike heart and the way she walked around in the soil barefooted, and it had just slipped out. It seemed right. It seemed the sort of thing he’d read in a book.

He wanted to take that all back. He had barely gotten used to the cuddling yet.

“Commander Daisy!” she beamed. “I like it! Ooh, I ought to make you a Warden-Constable. Warden-Commander Daisy and her Warden-Constable Nate!”

“There are better reasons to promote someone,” he said. “You didn’t hear anything.”

“We’re best friends-s-s,” Ethelan sang as she settled back down between his legs, leaning her head against his chest.

What a strange thought. One year ago, if someone had told him he would be best friends with his father’s killer, he would have been appalled. But, time has a way of bringing out what needs to be said, and Ethelan was impatient.

And if she wanted to offer him the constableship, he wouldn’t turn her down. After all, as she always said, friends make the best partners. And weren’t they best friends?

“I guess we are… Daisy,” he smiled, combing his fingers through her greasy, matted hair. “Maker help us all.”

**Author's Note:**

> ethelan DOES make him warden-constable. i'm so proud of him i'm gonna vomit.


End file.
